Amazing Grace
by TiraFaeMyths
Summary: " "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound/That saved a wretch like me/I once was lost but now am found/Was blind, but now I see." He'd always said it was her song for him. " For Hermione Granger, head girl of Hogwarts, mysteries are never much of a challenge. But Draco Malfoy, her fellow head student, and a little first year are proving to be an enigma for her.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Harry Potter- if I did, lets just say 19 years later would be very very different.**

**So...on with the story and I hope you enjoy! Please review...and that goes for all chapters!**

Hermione watched the next child go up to the sorting hat. Unlike her peers, she was not waving or holding her head up high to seem unafraid. No, the slight girl was hidden underneath a witches hat, her hair and features hidden from prying eyes.  
"Ma-" McGonagall looked up across the hall before swallowing the word and correcting herself: "Grace." Hermione hadn't followed the headmistresses gaze, still trying to discern who was under the hat.  
"Take your hat off, dear," the old headmistress said to the girl. Most couldn't hear it, but Hermione did. The small girl pulled her sleeves into her hands before taking off the hat, looking in the same direction the headmistress had moments ago. She held her chin up high as white gold hair styled in a pixie cut was revealed and the whole hall went completely silent. Only one other person had hair that colour.

Her sorting went on and the hat mumbled incoherently to her, deciding which house to be put in.  
"Well then…Gryffindor!" The sorting hat announced, almost proudly. Hushed whispers of disbelief spread throughout the student body: The sorting hat had finally lost it; Gryffindor was- well, the opposite of a Malfoy…

Grace slid off the chair and quite forcefully pulled her own hat over her head once again. She didn't even glance over to the Gryffindor table before running towards the doors of the great hall. Most expected to hear the doors open and shut but instead were met with the sight of the Malfoy children embracing. She had run straight into the arms of her big brother, who enveloped her completely with his six foot four stature. He had pried her hat off her head and smoothed her hair bending down to talk to her in hushed tones. He brushed away a tear that had escaped. Hermione was sure of it. He seemed completely serious as he handed her the hat and she nodded in understanding, just as serious as her brother while looking over to the Gryffindor table. Hermione found herself under the gaze of two pairs of silver eyes.

Hermione watched as the Malfoy boy returned to his Slytherin table and his sister slunk over to hers. He didn't sit among his posse as usual; instead he stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the table near the door, completely alone. The war had left many completely alone. Draco Malfoy had killed his own father and several other death eaters after and during the Battle of Hogwarts. His mother had died as well, and the Slytherin and pureblood heirs had left him alone because of his tainted reputation. Blood supremacy was a thing of the past for most, but most of the Slytherins had not been active in the war, and thought killing was an extremity. It was the reality for most in the hall above the age of fifteen.

She knew all of this because she had been there at his trial. She had not allowed it for him to be condemned to a fate worse than death, because of the look in his eyes when she had lain on the floor in his Manor. It was the understanding that kept her sane. It seemed ridiculous, but she had convinced herself that if Malfoy could live through the pain than she would too. He would not beat her. She had seen the pain and worry in his eyes at his trial at the beginning. She had seen the relief when he was released of charges. Before, she believed he was just happy to be free, to get away lucky, but now she understood he had to get away free- for Grace.

His eyes followed his sister, who seemed at loss for where to sit. The other spaces around the table had suddenly become filled with coats and jumpers and the children were sending curious looks or glares at Grace. Hermione bit her lip, thinking. She had sat away from her friends, too concerned with her head duties. She was away from all the other students, and there was a seat across from her. She waved the first year over with a kind half-smile on her face. The young girl looked back at her brother for conformation. The head boy nodded to his sister in encouragement and then to Hermione, it seemed to be a 'thank you'. He stood and then Hermione suddenly became conscious of the fact that McGonagall was still finishing her speech.  
"- and our head students this year are Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy," Hermione stood up abruptly, looking almost shaken and sat down as the hesitant applause stopped. The Malfoy's seemed to be hiding smirks. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Food appeared on the plates in front of them and Hermione went back to reading through her duties and finalizing schedules for the prefects. Of course she'd gotten head girl. 'Her good grades and amazing acts of heroism wasn't all for nothing' was how her best friends had put it. It seemed like a normal thing for her to do, after all these years, and she needed the time alone. The only thing that bought her out of her reverie was the smell of chocolate brownies. She reached over for one, exposing her arm. She had rolled up her sleeves, it was exceptionally warm for a September evening, and in doing so had exposed the scar on her left arm.  
"We match," she heard the soft voice of the Malfoy girl. What could they possibly have in common apart from the fact that they were in Gryffindor together? She was about to voice her doubts when she looked up to see Grace pulling up her sleeve to reveal a scar much like her own, except with a unique word:

_Traitor_


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own etc etc**

Hermione sent Grace off with the prefects to the Gryffindor commons, but not before her brother had spoken to her once again, kissing her forehead and wishing her good night. She and Malfoy walked along to the designated portrait, in silence. She couldn't keep up with the hostility, it was too draining. After his trial, after the war, the petty school yard grudge seemed nothing more than just that. It was pointless. And Draco Malfoy was suddenly not a cold heartless statue to her, but a human being. Just that he was a human being who made the all wrong choices.

They had been told to devise their own password to change every three weeks. They stopped in front of a painting of a boat sailing into the distance, with a mermaid sitting in the corner of the picture.  
"Password?" the mermaid asked, her voice muffled- as if underwater, she would only ask when they needed to agree to a new one.  
"Newton and Wilberforce," Draco said. Hermione was baffled and so didn't even argue when the portrait when it looked for input, she just nodded. They entered the rooms, which were just like the others- a common room, two bedrooms, two bathrooms. The common room sat with neutral tones, avoiding all house references.

"No argument against the password, Granger?" she shrugged.  
"Does there need to be one Draco? It was a perfectly apt code and no one would guess it."  
"First names?"  
"There are two of you now, you can't both be Malfoy, it's confusing," he rolled his eyes and nodded as a way of agreeing. He knew perfectly well it was her approach to peace. She was offering a truce. As if he wasn't likely to take it. He owed it to her after his trial. He left to head to bed, calling 'see you tomorrow Granger' over his shoulder.

…

_"She was trying to escape," he said gruffly, throwing her to the floor. Lucius studied the girl, occasionally flicking his stare to his son.  
"Who is she?"  
"Some captive muggle or mudblood," another suggested. Lucius shook his head and an evil smile showed on his face. Draco was cursing internally.  
"Narcissa," Lucius turned to his wife, "Who is she?"_

Draco woke up in a cold sweat because of a sharp rapping at the entrance of the head's dorms. He groggily sat up ready to snap at anyone who thought to disturb him at this ungodly hour of- he looked across at the wall- two in the morning. He swung open the portrait to find his little sister in her pyjamas, her wand in her hand, and tears streaming down her face. He ushered her in and shut the door quietly behind them. He sat in an arm chair by the smouldering fire and she sat on his lap, curled into his chest, clutching his tee-shirt and making it wet with her tears, her wand long forgotten on the coffee table. While her big brother rocked her, she no longer needed the protection of her wand. She had him. He would always be there for her. Her shoulders shook with sobs as she relived the night mare over and over, and he started to sing, just as he had for her all these years.

_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,  
That saved a wretch like me.  
I once was lost but now am found,  
Was blind, but now I see._

His deep voice lulled over her, calming her into a state of half consciousness. It was her nightmare song, he'd sung it to her even when she was in a cradle in the corner of his cupboard. He always squeezed her tighter when he said her name in the song. She knew it meant the other type of grace, but it was her song for him, he'd always said.

_T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.  
And Grace, my fears relieved.  
How precious did that Grace appear  
The hour I first believed__._

Hermione leaned against her door, peaking out through the crack. She had woken when someone was knocking on the door. She had gone to open it when she saw Draco ushering in a distressed looking Grace. She had watched curiously, trying to figure out the mystery of the siblings. And then he'd started to sing. His voice was amazing, and it seemed to have an instant affect on Grace. The light from the smouldering embers illuminated the dark room, creating shadows across the brother and sister. He was looking down at her, his lips on her head and she was tracing patterns on his chest, looking up through her eyelashes at him.

Fifteen minutes later Grace had left and he made his way to his room once again. He looked back at the door with a sigh. He disappeared into his room after that.

Hermione shut her door and leaned back against it, sliding down to the floor so her knees where pulled up to her chest, putting her face in her hands.

She hadn't even realised she was crying.


	3. Chapter 3

**OKAY GUYS THIS IS AN IMPORTANT A/N! I have changed the dream in chapter 2 and it is vital you re-read it other wise nothing will make sense!**

**The normal disclaimer-y stuff etc...**

Hermione ran to the Gryffindor dorms. She had promised the others to walk to breakfast with them and now she was late. She hadn't slept last night; all she could do was think of the remaining lyrics to Amazing Grace. She almost pushed through the Fat Lady to find an empty common room. She was late. So late in fact that every Gryffindor- even Seamus who never woke up on time- was gone. She huffed and turned when she heard light footsteps down the stairs. She waited by the portrait for the first year- she assumed- to help them find their way. First day of classed was always a bit confusing. It surprised her when Grace came into view- Malfoy's were always punctual. Well, that's what Draco had sneered at her once. Why? She couldn't even remember. All the same she waited for the girl as she put on the witches hat and hulked her bag over her shoulder. The satchel was worn and had 'Grace Malfoy' sown on in green letters. The first name was not meticulously stitched like the last, but looked hand sown. It was the same satchel he had had in first year. She heard a muffled thank you from under the hat as they left the common room.

"You know, no one wears their hats unless its formal meals. You'll stand out more with it on," Hermione said quietly to the girl in passing. The girl scoffed. "I only know because I tried to hide my hair under my hat for the first couple of days." This time Grace smirked and removed the hat to reveal the shock of blonde hair.  
"Now we match with the ridiculous hair too," the little Malfoy joked, "But don't tell Draco I called his hair ridiculous." She added as an afterthought.  
"Wouldn't dream of it," Hermione replied, glad to see the girl was happier than before, "You know it's not very loyal to your house if your name on your satchel is in green," she said in an off handed manner- offering to change it for her.  
"I know, I tried to charm it like I did with my name but it didn't work," Grace said, as if it were no problem. Hermione was impressed. She flicked her wand and the letters changed to scarlet, and Grace nodded, approving.  
"I won't neaten up your name, it can be a testament to your first bit of magic," Grace raised an eyebrow, "Legal, intentional magic," Hermione amended.

They reached the great hall and Grace left Hermione as the older girls friends waved her over. She sat in the same spot as yesterday, alone this time.

Hermione sat with her friends, enjoying the slight chaos that came with the half-asleep seventh years. She registered that Draco never appeared, and she kept an eye on Grace. Most of the teachers had left to get ready for lessons and only a few students were left. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny were just about to leave the table, while Ron was still stuffing food into his mouth, when they heard a resounding slap. Hermione immediately turned as head girl, locating the source of the commotion quite easily.

Surrounding Grace were three girls, second years by the looks of it. Grace was standing, her mercury eyes ablaze and one of the girls was holding her bleeding nose. Hermione was at a close enough distance by now to hear the words uttered by Grace in a low, dangerous tone-  
"Feel free to say whatever you want about me, but one more word about my big brother and I will do a lot worse than slap you," Grace swung her bag onto her shoulder and was about to leave when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Hermione with a frown on her face. Grace answered the unasked question-  
"You heard- they were being mean about Draco," she looked defiantly into the head girl's eyes, daring her to say something.  
"Ten points from each of you for disrespecting the head boy, and go to the hospital wing to sort out your nose," the girl's gasped at the 'injustice' and Grace smirked,  
"Detention with me at seven, Malfoy, for physical violence," Hermione said to her, loud and clear. Grace nodded and continued to her classes, brushing past Hermione's friends. Hermione caught up with Harry, Ron and Ginny.

"Can you even hand out detentions with yourself?" Ron asked curiously.  
"No, but they don't know that, do they?" Hermione replied with a smirk.  
"You sure you're in the right house Mione?" was the reply from Ginny, who nudged her playfully.  
"It's questionable, but Small Malfoy is definitely a Gryffindor," replied Harry for Hermione, who got a smile from her, "She's got a right hook like the Gryffindor Princess," he added before sprinting down the corridor to their next lesson. The other three laughed and followed, but Hermione couldn't help but find it a little unnerving with the comparisons between her and Grace. She needed to know more- and detention was the perfect time for questions.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own!**

Detention was held in the library in the farthest corner where Hermione usually hid to work. Grace had already caught on with the fake detention and had waited for Hermione by the doors of the Great Hall, going along with it.  
She sat opposite Hermione, watching her with a wary eye. Hermione was stuck; she didn't know how she should pose these questions. She didn't know what to expect. Instead she just rolled up her sleeve to reveal the scar on her arm. Grace did the same, though reluctantly.  
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said softly. She had noticed Grace's nervous habit of holding the ends of the sleeves in her hand.  
"I know, it's just ugly," she obviously wasn't comfortable.  
"Brave," Hermione amended. Grace scoffed.  
"What did those girls say to you?"  
"Nothing of importance," she relented under Hermione's stern glare.  
"They said he should bugger off to Azkaban with Lucius, where he belongs and I should go with him," she spat the name of her father with such contempt, and her hand curled into a fist, "It's kind of fitting he has the devil's name, you know?" she said with a cold smile on her face. It was a smile Hermione thought no young child should have to see let alone carry themselves.  
"Don't let it get to you-"  
"They're idiots, I know." Hermione raised an eyebrow at the girl's exasperated tone. "Draco already said the same thing." Hermione nodded with a hum of approval. The girl already had enough today, she didn't need to dredge up the past any more.  
"We do match, you know," Grace seemed determined to speak. "Shocking hair and tattoos on our arms that don't reflect who we are." Hermione nodded once again, not wanting to miss what the girl had to say next. "All of them are mistakes," Hermione took a glance at the scar on Grace's arm. It seemed like something petty but she noticed the letters were all in capitals, like hers, up until the last 'r'. It was lower case that letter, as if incomplete- TRAITOr  
"All? Both." Hermione corrected the grammar.  
"No, all. Draco too." Silence endured after the small girl's revelation. Hermione knew she was right.  
"I'll walk you back to your room," Hermione offered, stating the end of 'detention'. Grace stood and went to roll her sleeve down, when she noticed Hermione didn't. It would be cowardly if she did, so she pushed the sleeve of her grey jumper further back. The two walked down the hall side by side, not talking. As they got closer to the dormitories Hermione noticed Grace had been singing under her breath the whole way.

_How precious did that Grace appear  
The hour I first believed_

She hummed the next verse in the same tune, and Hermione realised she didn't know the next verses. Hermione grabbed a quill and parchment and furiously scribbled something down. She folded it once and wrote "for Amazing Grace" on the front. Just before Grace slipped through the portrait hole bidding Hermione good night, the older girl had slipped her note into Grace's hands. She had left with a kind smile on her face.

Hermione needed to find out the enigma that was the youngest Malfoy child.

...

It was the talk of the school that the Malfoy kids were in a scrap again. Hermione had given his sister detention, which meant she was going to ask questions. He quickly wrote a note to Grace in the form of a flying paper aeroplane, demanding what Hermione had asked. She had replied: _we talked about scars._  
After the dream, Draco couldn't stop thinking and over analysing what had happened that night. How he had owed Granger long before the trial. Before the battle. The day she had been tortured in his home was the day Draco would forever be indebted to her. He slipped his head into his hands, his elbows on his knees, hunched over on the common room sofa. He stood as Hermione entered the room, walking past him to her room. He stood in front of her towering over her tiny frame.

"What did you ask my sister?" he said slowly.  
"We talked about scars," the head girl replied, walking around him and shutting herself in her room. He collapsed into the chair by the fire place once again, assuming the same defeated stance. His heart beat thudded in his ears when he realised he was responsible for all of their scars. He had tried to protect Grace, and had failed miserably, which was proven by the ugly marks on their arms.

Again Grace had visited in the night, and again he had sung her all of Amazing Grace that he knew. He only knew it because he had heard one of the muggles singing it before they were lead to their impending doom in his home. The irony was not lost on him. He had researched everything he could, so it shocked him when Grace slipped out a piece of parchment entitled 'for Amazing Grace' and had sung the rest of the song. He knew it was Granger who had given her those words.

Granger was always saving Grace.


	5. Chapter 5

**Not owned by me.**

Hermione couldn't sleep. Seeing Grace's scar next to her own scar had intensified the nightmares. Grace had been lying on the floor next to her, writhing and screaming in pain as the word mudblood was carved over her own scar, at the exact same time as Hermione. The knife on Hermione's flesh was like Umbridge's quill, except it took Grace's blood too. The mystery of the scar was fuelling her imagination and that was shown through her dreams.  
Hermione seemed to be quite close to the girl, having never had any siblings of her own. She lay on her bed staring into darkness when she heard a knock at the door. A flurry of footsteps followed and quiet snuffles changed to lyrics. Hermione smiled when she realised Grace was singing the verses she had written down. It was nice to be a comfort to people, however indirectly. For Harry and Ron she was a rock, a shoulder to lean on and for others she was a symbol of safety and bravery. She hated the attention, but the thought of helping all those people…she caved in.  
Hermione heard the portrait door close and Draco head back to his room. She walked over to her door and opened it just enough to see his shirtless back criss-crossed with scars, before he disappeared into his room.  
Hermione thought he looked like a broken china doll.

….

It was three days before Hermione managed to pluck up the courage to ask about the scars. In that time Draco had become less distant. He had quietly sent a note in class the morning after Grace had sung the new verses saying thank you. Hermione had flashed him a smile like the sun breaking through clouds.  
When Draco woke up that morning he was greeted in the common room by Hermione, who was already doing homework. He rolled his eyes. Her sleeves were rolled up and he could see the scar. He visibly flinched. He hadn't noticed Hermione watching him and had only just registered her talking.  
"-uncomfortable, I can roll down my sleeves." She said as if it were nothing. He shook his head and subconsciously rubbed his left forearm. Hermione looked slightly conflicted before the words came tumbling out of her mouth:  
"How did you get those scars on your back?" He was shocked by her blunt delivery of the words. No pandering, no stutters. He smiled, adopting her blasé attitude.  
"It's not all fun and games in the house of Lucifer," she smiled at the joke. The boys had always found it easier to tell jokes in a serious conversation.  
"Having been to hell and back, I should know," suddenly the mood was a whole lot more sombre.  
"And Grace?" her voice was almost a whisper. He immediately tensed. This was not a topic he would discuss with her. He walked away shaking his head, to signify the end of their conversation and to get rid of the tears forming in his eyes. He felt a tiny hand on his wrist, and he whipped his head around to see her. Her voice was so soft, so caring.  
"You don't have to tell me now-"  
"I can't ever tell you." He growled, furious with himself. She looked shocked and retracted her hand. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face before answering the unasked question: why not?  
"Not after all you've done for me."  
"The trial was nothing, Draco. You-" he cut her off again.  
"You've been there for me long before the trial, Granger. You've always been my saving grace." He left the room, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

…

Draco had run out to the black lake as fast as he could before he fell to the grass.

"_Who is she?" _

_Narcissa's lips remained in an unemotional flat line but her eyes showed fear. And Lucius noticed. He edged toward her and held her hand, as if calming a child.  
"Who is she, Cissa?" He used his pet name for her and it made Draco want to gag. He was manipulating her. She replied softly,_

"_I don't know." Then he filled with rage. The oldest Malfoy stalked away from his wife and turned his wand on her.  
"LIAR!" He screamed, "TELL ME WHO SHE IS!" Draco watched his mother fall to the ground and writhe under the intensity of the curse from Lucius' fuelled anger. He cried out in despair as she screamed out the truth: "Your daughter! She's your daughter!" Draco was immediately held from behind, his wrists bound using magic. The more he struggled the tighter the bound became. Lucius ended the curse and Draco slumped as he turned to his newly found daughter.  
"Such a pretty thing," he sighed, caressing the side of her face, "but no Malfoy will be a traitor," he pushed her to the ground and aimed his wand at her. Draco heard his voice the "NO!" yelled out in despair, but he couldn't register it as he grinded his teeth together to try to forget the pain of the cruciatus curse.  
"No Malfoy will be a traitor!" Lucius had screamed, manic now. It was then Bellatrix that came up behind him with a crazy smile on her face and a cackle ripped from her throat after she told Lucius her idea. He grinned evilly with her.  
"And you will be reminded of that every day for the rest of your lives."_

...

"What did you do to my brother?" after all the students were in the great hall Hermione had been cornered and a wand had been pointed upwards into her face.  
"I have no clue Grace! I've been looking for him all morning!" Hermione replied, truly worried for the head boy.  
"I think you need to apologise," the younger girl sighed, removing her wand from Hermione's face and looking out of the window. There by the black lake, was the hunched over frame of Draco Malfoy. "He screamed at me to leave him alone when I found him, you know. You really must have got to him," Hermione didn't think her protesting she didn't do anything was going to get her anywhere so she gave in and asked what he had said.  
"He said he couldn't look at me right now." That was all Hermione needed to know, before she stormed off to the sulking boy under the willow tree.

…

"Look at me."  
"No." Hermione's anger boiled over.  
"Why? You won't look at me because the scar reminded you of who I am? You won't look at Grace because she is a traitor? You're so above us that you can't even lookat us?" Hermione said, her voice gradually rising in volume. She regretted it immediately.  
"NO! I can't look at you because it is reminder that this-" he roughly grabbed her arm so she let out a little gasp of pain, "this and the one on Grace's arm are a constant reminder of how _beneath_ you I am, of how they are MY fault!" He had roared. His eyes had clouded over but now they cleared and he dropped her arm in horror; he had hurt her. Hermione's eyes widened, this boy was full of surprises. He had collapsed to the ground, staring out over the lake. Hermione sat next to him, noticing the tear tracks streaming down his face. She whispered an apology.  
"I should be the one saying sorry," he replied, shaking his head. Hermione wiped away his tears and then smiled. He looked at her curiously.  
"Draco Malfoy just showed some emotion and said sorry," his lips twitched up in a sort of smile.  
"Bet even your friends haven't seen that," she said, standing.  
"Haven't you noticed Granger, I don't have friends." Her heart swelled and she felt the pain of the poor boy, understanding the meaning of being alone.  
"Just one." She said, holding out her hand to help him up.


	6. Chapter 6

_**I wish I owned. **_

Hermione didn't push it about Grace. He would tell her, eventually. When he was ready. Hopefully.  
Grace didn't stick with the kids in her own year. They kept their distance, eyeing her curiously. Her witch's hat was nowhere to be seen and she still kept her sleeves rolled down. She would stick with Hermione between lessons, but not her brother. Draco was difficult to be around after everything that had happened. He was overly protective and, well, just a bit over the top really. Anyway, Hermione was a good person to talk to. Intelligent like her brother, yes, but even more so and she treated Grace as an equal. She took into account her views as if she were her own age, not seven years younger.

Grace had taken to coming to the tower in the evenings Draco was at Quidditch. It was then Hermione realised that Grace was much more like her. She already knew her intelligence was somewhat remarkable for an eleven year old, but so was her control over her magic. Draco had walked into the room after Quidditch and had locked eyes with Grace. The eleven year old had simply rolled her eyes and continued her work.  
"Get out of my head; I had a fine day of classes. Whatever you need to say to me you can say in front of Hermione."  
"Draco! You can't use occulemancy on Grace!" Hermione had chastised. He had raised a brow: why not? Hermione had just growled and thrown a pillow at him using wordless wandless magic. Draco had been impressed but barely showed it, his seeker like reflexes allowing him to catch the cushion.  
"Just like Harry, damn I hate Quidditch," Hermione had mumbled, much to the head boy's amusement.  
"If I can't use my magic, then you can't use yours. How about a warning next time?" Draco had said. Hermione had huffed in defeat.  
"Like you need it." Draco turned to his wide eyed sister who had run to the bookshelf.  
"Grace, you can't teach yourself that kind of magic,"  
"Hermione did."  
"Brightest witch of her age, Grace-"  
"I'm not stupid-"  
"Far from it I'm just saying-" Hermione rolled her eyes and eyed the two cushions lying harmlessly on the couch. She felt something probing her mind but she thought nothing of it and aimed the cushions at the two Malfoy's heads. They didn't even look before catching them. Then it dawned on her.  
"Stop using occulemancy on me!"  
"It was predictable, you were going to stop our 'argument' somehow, we just took extra precautions," smirked Grace. Draco nodded to his sister, looking smug and just a little proud.  
"I could teach Grace," Hermione said. Grace nodded eagerly but Draco looked sceptical. "Then she can kick ass if anyone gets in her way," the head girl added as an afterthought. Draco nodded and all three of them spent the evening honing their magic. Both Malfoy's picked it up fast, Hermione wasn't surprised.

….

Hermione was sitting by the willow where she and the boys used to sit reading when she felt two people sit with her.  
"We've missed you," Harry said, giving Hermione a one armed hug.  
"Yeah 'Mione, Gryffindors all boring without you, the girls don't shut up about boys and make up and the boys won't shush about Quidditch," Ginny complained.  
"Ginny, you like make up and boys and Quidditch," Hermione counteracted. Ginny had always been girly, it was her way of making a statement in a house full of boys, but they did have some effect- Quidditch was one of them.  
"Yes but a girl can have too much!" Hermione laughed. "And 'boys'- you can lose the 's'," she mumbled. She leaned back into Harry.

Harry and Ginny were together after the war and were somewhat the school 'sweet hearts' much to Ron's displeasure, who was dutifully playing the protective older brother. Harry gave her a peck on the cheek when Ron came over to sit on the other side of Hermione. He slung his arm around her shoulder and Hermione leaned in, just as friends do. You would immediately think they would look like a couple, but it seemed more like brother and sister to anyone who saw.  
"Get your filthy mits off my sister he said," with a wink and a smile. Harry just hugged his girl closer.  
"So Mione, where you been?" Hermione sighed. Between befriending the Malfoy's and head duties she hadn't really hung out with her friends much. She decided to just tell the truth.  
"Hanging out with the Malfoy's," Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron looked at her sceptically. Ginny looked intrigued. Hermione sighed, shifting away from Ron to sit in front of them all.  
"You already said you liked Grace," Hermione started,  
"Yeah Small Malfoy I've got no problem with," Harry said and the Weasley's nodded. Hermione told them about 'detention' and the similarities. Her friends seemed reluctant at first; not wanting to believe this was the same boy that had tormented them for years. She didn't mention the song. That was their secret.  
"-and he cares. They only have each other," she said, "and I know what it's like to be alone," she finished quietly. Her friends surrounded her, in a group hug.  
"You're not alone, Hermione," Ginny said. A tear track falling down her face.  
"You'll always have us," Harry promised solemnly.  
"So I'm going to be there for them, too," Hermione said. They all nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

**I want to apologise for the incorrect spellings last chapter.**

**MWAHAHAHAHAHA I own it so Dramione is real! *wakes up* Dammit.**

The next morning, Hermione and Grace walked to breakfast with Draco. They continued to the Gryffindor table and Draco went to Slytherin.

"Oi, Malfoy!" The blond turned, looking a bit alarmed. Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Bet our food's better than the snake's over there," he shifted up from opposite Grace, making space for the Slytherin to sit.  
"I've always wondered," Draco said as he made his way to sit by the red-head. The whole hall just gaped, including Harry, Ginny and Hermione. Grace bit her cheek to stop herself laughing.  
"What? Just 'cause I'm-" Ron started,  
"A hot-headed-" Harry offered,  
"Grudge holding-" Ginny continued,  
"Ferret hating-" Grace joined in. Hermione raised an eyebrow, "My favourite bed time story," Grace said and Draco glared as he took his seat.  
"Alright, alright, just 'cause I didn't like Malfoy before,"  
"Understatement of the century," Draco coughed. Ron glared at him jokingly.  
"-doesn't mean I can't change!Especially 'cause Small Malfoy is in our house now. I'm not that much of a bloody git!" Everyone laughed before they heard McGonagall from the teacher's table.

"Mister Weasley! Language!" That just set them off even more. "Five points from Gryffindor," everyone rolled their eyes, shaking their heads.

…..

Hermione kept her sleeve rolled up where ever she went now, no matter how cold it was. People had been shocked at first, pained to see it. A few of the older Slytherins scoffed and jeered, but she wouldn't let it get to her. She never had before. It was only until one sixth year Slytherin had come up to her and Grace at lunch, that things had got a bit out of hand.

"Nice to see you know your place, finally, Mudblood," Grace had her fists clenched by her sides but Hermione kept on walking to the Gryffindor table, barely looking over her shoulder before taking away points for offensive language, sitting by her friends. Grace had smirked and went to follow. None of the teachers seemed to have noticed yet.  
"Traitor! You and your brother!" he had called after Grace. She stopped dead in her tracks, "Running straight into the arms of Gryffindor, not standing up for what you believe in," With one swipe of her hand, Grace had the boy, who was twice her size and probably three times her weight, magically held up against the wall. He was shocked to say the least, as was everybody else in the hall. Hermione could see Draco watching them.  
"I didn't run, I was placed, and I'm proud to have been," she walked closer to him.  
"And I never believed in all the hierarchy shit, so I couldn't be a traitor," she spat out the last word and took a step closer, her hand going to her sleeve.  
"And trust me, I know the word quite well," she had rolled her sleeve up to show the boy her scar, he struggled, looking uncomfortable. Several gasps were heard from those around the hall. The teacher's remained completely silent, their brows furrowed. The whole hall could see the arm she had stuck out under the boy's nose. "Similar aren't they," Grace looked back to Hermione's uncovered forearm.  
"Because they were made with the same knife." Hermione's eyes widened. By now, everyone knew how Hermione had gotten the scar: pinned to the floor in Malfoy manor, tortured by Bellatrix, so more gasps were heard around the hall. Draco looked pained.  
"So get off your bloody high horse," Grace dropped him to the floor, "and forget whatever your pureblood bitch parents taught you," He scrambled to his feet, "because you can't judge a book by its cover." He had run straight out of the great hall, his tail between his legs, figuratively.

The whole hall was watching her, stunned into silence. Grace continued walking her head down. She heard a whisper in her mind: I'm proud of you. She looked up and beamed over to Draco, who smiled weakly back. When she reached her seat by Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione started clapping. Grace looked a bit overwhelmed. Luna stood at the Ravenclaw table and joined in. Her Lion-Head hat gave a roar and soon the whole hall was standing applauding her, whoops and cheers coming from most areas. Hermione looked over to the Slytherin table, which seemed to be in various minds- disgust, shame or shock was evident on their usually blank faces. Her gaze fell to Draco, who was standing walking over to the Gryffindor table. He hugged Grace and ruffled her hair.

"That's my Amazing Grace," he had said. Ginny looked as if she were about to cry and Hermione smiled.

**Hey guys, I know you hear this a lot but please review because it makes people smile. If that's not enough for those compassionate hearts then I won't update until I get at least...6...reviews.**

**Tira Fae**


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own.**

"_I told you before! Get out! Leave!"  
"How could you? Do you care for your mother so little that you came back to curse her again? You demon!"_

Hermione woke up in tears on the couch in the common room. She quickly wiped them away and got up to walk to her room when she hit something- someone. She looked up at Draco, who had his arms crossed and was watching her curiously. She drew herself up to her full height and tried to walk past him when he grabbed her shoulders and sat her down on the couch, sitting next to her.

"Talk." He didn't say it forcefully, but he knew he couldn't play nice if he wanted to help her. Not like he could with Grace. She shook her head and rasped out those dreaded words.  
"I'm fine." She went to leave but he pushed her down again. She shook her head. He was about to say something when she spoke.  
"My parents." Draco frowned. She sucked in her cheeks, making the sharp cheekbones look severe. "Follow me." She got up and led him to her room. He looked around the room once she had turned the lights on. She gestured for him to sit on the bed and she opened her trunk to receive something. It was a photo album. Some moved and some didn't. There were pictures of her and her friends, those both dead and alive. Her parents were in some of them, up until she was fourteen, the dates below showed. After that there were none of her and them. He closed the book and looked at her.  
"I left home when I was fourteen." He touched her arm as some sort of apology. "My mum was a squib you know, as was my grandfather and his grandmother and so on so yes I am a muggleborn, but all muggleborns have to have some magical background it can't just appear out of nowhere-" she rambled. He stopped her.

"Not the point."  
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, she had always been the one in support of my magic. My dad was always more sceptical, being a muggle. When he had asked why she wasn't surprised when I got my Hogwarts letter and she had just explained what I said to you and felt a bit betrayed. His wife had lied to him, sort of, it's understandable-" she took a deep breath and continued.  
"He never really forgave that 'betrayal' and was always very wary of magic." Draco nodded.  
"When I was fourteen, my Mum got really sick. We didn't know what it was, it was like cancer but it wasn't. Mum believed it was something to do with the magic inside her. You see, squibs do have magic, but just not enough for it to be any use-" Draco coughed, not letting her get distracted.  
"Okay, well then Dad thought I'd done something to her. He was convinced I had done something to her. At this point Mum was bedridden and too sick to do anything and so couldn't argue when he kicked me out." Draco's jaw had gone slack slightly. Was her father absolutely nuts?  
"I've lived at the Burrow with the Weasley's ever since, and the last time I saw my parents was to obliviate them before the war. I couldn't let anything happen to them." A single tear escaped. "When I got there, my mum was fine, completely better, as if nothing had never been wrong. I rang on the doorbell, hoping they would let me back into their family after three years. We could be the three musketeers again." She smiled softly. It almost broke Draco's heart; that smile.  
"But Dad had convinced her it was my fault she got ill- that they were better off without me. They screamed at me to leave, telling me I was a freak, a demon," the smile had disappeared and her voice was breaking.  
"My parents were religious people. They both wore a cross around their necks. I didn't. I said I didn't believe in God." She looked at Draco, who had a confused look on his face.  
"I'll explain later. I obliviated them. I couldn't let them die even if they didn't love me. Then the war happened, and now we're here." He gripped her hand and hugged her. She had lost everything. She had been so alone. She was so strong. So...perfect. He couldn't help but notice her beauty. It was cliché, he knew. Her huge green-brown doe eyes, conveying all her emotions. Just the way she looked at you seemed to express how much she knew. The tanned skin from being on the run for a year, and the masses of brown hair hiding her sharp features.

They heard a small cough from the door and looked up to see Grace. They immediately jumped apart. Her eyes were puffy and Draco reached out to hug her. She sat next to him between him and Hermione. She put an arm around each of their waists and they did the same to her.

"You're going to have to explain religious and wearing crosses and God, Hermione."  
"And what the hell is a musketeer?" Hermione's full lips stretched into a smile, and she wiped away her tears. Her smile was infectious.

In the little three way hug they felt more like part of a family than any of them had in a long time.

**30 reviews before next chapter perhaps?**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Still not mine.**_

Draco had been proud of Grace. It pained him to see that scar and know it was his fault. It haunted his nightmares and he couldn't understand how little Grace could bear to look at him after seeing all the good people in this world. After meeting Hermione. His little girl had always thought that he was an angel. He may have been on the side of the angels, but he would never be one of them. Not after that.

He couldn't forget what Hermione had told him. She had trusted him with everything and he couldn't do the same. He couldn't lose his only friend. He couldn't lose Grace. If Hermione knew Grace would see how he should be treated by the rest of the world and follow suit. He couldn't lose them. He looked down at the novel in his hands. He'd borrowed it from Hermione- she didn't know that though. He heard a small cough from behind him. Hermione was there, her crazy hair tamed into a bun. She had one hand on her hip and another face up held out to him.

"Draco, have you seen my book?" He smiled and handed it to her. She held it against her chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "Did you enjoy it? It's always been my favourite, my dad used to read it to me," she sounded a lot brighter speaking about her parents than one would have thought. He smiled and nodded, getting up to go and do his homework.  
"At least I understand what a musketeer is now."  
"We can be the three musketeers you know, a brave French (speaking) trio, fighting in battles for the light-" he stopped dead in his tracks.  
"Yeah we can," he heard another voice from behind him. He turned to see Grace beaming at Hermione. Like two angels. His guardian angels. She was holding a book too- the curly script on the front read 'Bible'.  
"You know Hermione, it's all rather disappointing,"  
"What the Bible? Or the fact that Malfoy's keep stealing my books?" Grace gave her a cheeky grin.  
"The Bible." Hermione nodded in agreement. "More to the point, you speak French?"  
He left as they started to debate about religion and Merlin only knows what else...in French.

He could hear giggles from downstairs and occasional raised voices but suddenly it became very quiet. He hadn't heard the door open or close. He slowly walked down the stairs to check what was going on.

"I got mine the same day as yours-" he sprinted down the stairs to see Grace tracing the letters of her scar. Her eyes grew wide when she saw him. He shook his head.  
"No Grace-"  
"I want to-"  
"Grace go back to your tower," his voice was low, and he seemed to suddenly have lost all colour. Hermione blinked, he looked like the broken hollow boy from sixth year. Suddenly Grace screamed out.  
"Fine, I'll leave!" she picked up her things before storming out. Before she left she looked her brother in the eye, "she has a right to know the truth." She was gone.  
Hermione looked between the door and Draco, who had turned and was heading back upstairs. She raced after him.  
"You shouldn't have made her leave you know," she said stopping his door from slamming in her face. He didn't acknowledge her.

When she left he rummaged through his drawers to find a small piece of parchment.

_My dearest Draco,  
If you have this letter then I am no longer with you. Your father and his lord have been defeated and I pray you and Grace are far, far away. I am no longer with you because I took my own life with my own wand of my own volition. I did this because I knew without me you and Grace could live a better life and also I wouldn't have to suffer a painful, tortured death. I was only ever a burden to you and your sister, a bad example of cowardice, and my death adds to that list of examples._

_I lied to the Dark Lord for both you and Grace. If you had not been alive, I would not have left this world. I left because you lived; I left so you could look after your sister better than I ever could. You were always better than us Draco, and I regret being too cowardly to stand up to your father to show him just how good you are. It is because of me that you have those scars, and I am never going to forgive myself for it. It is because of me that you have had to do unspeakable things and Grace has her scar. I couldn't live with looking at either of you and excepting your looks of anything but hate.  
I am writing this above the Death Eaters in our home and I can hear them coming up the stairs to find me. I pray you and Grace are safe. _

_Promise me you will remain the good person you always were.  
Promise me you will thank Hermione Granger.  
Promise me you will look after Grace._

_Though I deserve none of it, keep those promises.  
I want you to know I have always loved you, but I'm sorry it couldn't be enough._

_Your Mother_

There were tear stains of hers and his blurring the words in some places. Hers were tears of sadness, but his were of anger. How could he ever forgive her? How could anyone do this to their children? It disgusted him and saddened him, he couldn't decide.

He'd only kept the letter because it was his last reminder of his mother. He crumpled it up and threw it across the room just as he had hundreds of times before. He didn't realise it had gone out of the open door and hit Hermione's.

"How could she?" he heard a small gasp from Hermione's door way. He turned to see Hermione looking at him with wide eyes, neatly folding the letter. He couldn't move, but luckily she could. She moved over to the open drawer and hid the letter, before closing the drawer. She walked back over to him and stood, looking up at him.

"Thank you," he murmured, and he couldn't look her in the eye. But she heard. She shrugged her shoulders.  
"You can thank me when I know," she said. She lent up to kiss his cheek. It was so soft he barely felt it but it warmed his heart.  
"She didn't deserve you," and with that she left.


	10. Chapter 10

**A huge thanks to missmandymalfoy whose story "An Action is Worth a Thousand Words"gave me the idea for a better chapter. I despised it before and now it's all good.**

**I'm so sorry for the late update but I think they will be weekly from now on. **

**Enjoy! And once again I own nothing.**

Draco's fists clenched under the table. This couldn't be happening. He looked around at the Defence Against the Dark Arts class and could see everybody else looking just as grim. The professor had just wheeled out the dreaded cupboard that contained a boggart. They all tried to convince themselves that it was an irrational fear- to be scared of a creature that morphed into your worst nightmare- actually no, it was a very rational fear.  
Hermione seemed oddly calm. Her face showed no expression and her hands were completely still. Potter and Weasley, however, didn't have such poise. Then again, neither did he. He glanced over to the Slytherin students: blank masks disguised all feeling, and his gaze once again flitted to Hermione. She caught his eye and gave a small smile.

"So I presume you are familiar with the counter curse, it's all very simple-" the teacher rattled on and no one seemed to be paying too much attention. Deep breathing seemed to be the main sound in the classroom.

"Line up and we can all practice!" the professor sounded all to jolly for the task ahead. Each student stood- with Draco at the back of the line. Hermione slunk in behind him. He looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the scar. He looked at her and indicated to her arm. She shook her head, much to his surprise.

Werewolves, vampires and Voldemort appeared all too many times out of the cupboard. The curse for taking the dark mark was repeated too many times. The most shocking though was when Potter faced his boggart. A small gasp emitted from the class when a battered and bleeding Ron Weasley stepped out of the cupboard with a sneer on his face. He looked as if he should be dead from those wounds- the glazed over eyes suggested he was. The real Ron paled and looked unbearably guilty and Hermione looked as if she was going to be sick. The boggart opened its mouth to speak but the counter curse hit it before any words were said. The carrot top turned into a weasel and padded its way back to the cupboard. Harry couldn't seem to look Ron in the eye and Ron was trying desperately to think of something to do.

All too soon it was Draco's turn. He felt Hermione squeeze his arm from behind- over his dark mark, he hissed at the contact on the tainted skin, and she immediately drew her hand away, looking apologetic. All the conversations seemed to be silent today. After all, actions were worth a thousand words. He gripped his hand over his wand and waited for the boggart to appear out of the cupboard. He knew exactly what was coming out of that cupboard, and he didn't want to see it.

The door inched open to reveal Grace in tattered rags. Red tear tracks showed up brightly on her pale skin. She looked as if she had never seen the sun. Then Hermione saw her arm. The word carved there was new and bleeding profusely. The blood trickled down over the blue veins on her thin wrist and in between her fingers. Draco was in a state of panic, his breath was shallow and he couldn't take his eyes off her arm.

"You did this to me," Grace said, her voice tired and broken, "You did this and hers is your fault too," the little girls piercing grey eyes looked over at Hermione and then back to Draco. "You will never be forgiven-I could never love you, if you were so _weak_ as to do this to me," her voice was laced with more and more malice. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dropped, and her voice was weak and small, "And you can never make it up to me," and suddenly she crumpled to the floor, her eyes closing and the rise and fall of her chest becoming still. She had just died in front of the whole class. Draco couldn't even point his wand at the 'lifeless' boggart. It was suddenly all too real. A single tear ran down his cheek. He had bitten through his lip. His wand dropped to the floor and he seemed to be taking a step towards the evil creature when he heard the counter curse come from Hermione. The little body turned into a puddle and slipped over into the cupboard. She looked over to him.

"Draco?" he shook his head and left the classroom, not looking back. She walked over to her desk and started packing up her things, and then went and did the same with Draco's things. She hefted both over her shoulder. Before she left the class the teacher seemed to come out of his reverie.

"Miss Granger, you didn't…I didn't dismiss class-" she ignored him and sprinted out of the door. She found herself outside his bedroom. She had dropped the bags in the common room somewhere. She opened the door slowly to see Draco curled up leaning against the side of his bed. She slid down to sit next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He tensed and she let her arms fall back to her sides.

"It's alright-" he scowled at her and her words died on her tongue. His eyes were red and his cheeks were flushed. His bottom lip was crusted with a barely formed scab. Draco was staring at her so intently it felt like he was searching her soul. Suddenly her head hurt with the most unbearable pain, it was like something was forcing its way into her head. Harry had described the pain when practicing occulemancy with Snape. She went to look away but Draco held the sides of her face forcing her to look at him. She suddenly felt as though she was falling into a pensieve. He was showing her a memory.

"_And you will be reminded of that every day for the rest of your lives."  
He felt the chill of the imperious curse spread through his limbs. He had no physical control and he thanked Merlin he was a good enough occulemens to stay in his head. But that thanks was short lived. Lucius pinned Grace to the floor with a flick of his wand and Bellatrix handed him her knife.  
"Carve her arm to say Traitor," he heard Lucius say. Tears streamed down Grace's face but the brave little girl didn't sob. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction. She was so perfect and he was about to destroy that. He felt himself walk towards her and as he leaned over her his tears mingled with hers, running down her cheek. She didn't even scream when he cut into her arm. She just bit her lip so hard it bled. He cried harder as the letters formed on her arm. I'm so sorry, he thought over and over again.  
"It's okay, Draco." He'd heard her say. I'm so sorry, he tried to convey to her by looking her in the eye. Her tiny body quivered in pain beneath him and the next words she said destroyed him.  
"I'll always love you."  
Before he finished writing the last 'r' he felt the curse lifted and Bellatrix scream in excitement. She had snatched the knife from him cackling and screeching.  
"We caught Harry Potter!" _

Hermione re-emerged from the memory in tears. She knew what happened next. Draco had watched as she was branded the same way as his sister. When Harry and Ron had come to save her he had slunk off. He had gone back for Grace and escaped with her. He had used Hermione as a distraction. That was why he had indentified her.

He let go of her face, he turned away, exhausted and broken.

"Now you try and tell me it's alright," he said, his voice dripping with self-loathing. She backed away to the door, twisting the handle and she ran.


	11. Chapter 11

**IMPORTANT NOTICE- I CHANGED CH10 BECAUSE I DIDN'T LIKE IT SO GO BACK AND RE-READ. I CHANGED IT COMPLETELY. PLEASE R&R. IF YOU DON'T GO BACK AND READ IT I WILL KNOW.**

**So I don't own and enjoy the chapter- probably the most light hearted one I've written, actually. **

Hermione ran out of the common room straight to the Gryffindor tower. It was lunch and so most of the pupils were there. They stared at her quizzically as she searched for Grace. The girl's blonde head appeared through the portrait hole. Hermione hadn't seen Grace in two days since she had stormed out of the head's commons after Draco didn't let her tell Hermione what had happened.

"Hermione!" she said, happy to see the older girl. She frowned when she saw the girl's tears. Grace dragged her to the girl's dorms and sat her down on the bed, performing a silencing charm and closing the curtains around them.

"What did he do now?" the young Malfoy's voice was low and threatening. Hermione couldn't help but notice how she clenched her hands-just like her brother. She was reduced into sobs once again when she saw the scar. The sight of the scar on the boggart was permanently burned into her vision. "He told you didn't he?" she said, frowning. Hermione nodded. Grace ran her hand through her hair with an exasperated sigh- just like her brother. It hurt.

"I'll always love him," she started, and Hermione gasped trying to hold in her tears. "I'll always love him because it's my fault that I left too early after he sent the signal to escape. I'll always love him because he always did all he could to save me. He took the dark mark for me." Hermione looked up at this, confusion written all over her face. "They invade your mind to find the thing most precious to you, if you refuse, they use it to destroy you and force you into submission," Grace said grimly.

"And you couldn't be discovered." Hermione whispered, earning a nod from Grace.

"If I was I would have been killed. To avoid feuds after the first male heir is born any other offspring are killed. I found out when I asked why I couldn't go outside." Hermione felt disgusted at the medieval way of thinking.

"I saw him kill Lucius you know." Hermione shook her head, this was knew information. Grace continued, "The man had trapped me in the Manor after they had discovered where we hiding after the final battle. He forced me into a corner and had his wand trained on me when Draco came up behind him and said the curse." There was no great duel, no drama, just a strained whisper of a spell. "He killed the men that killed our mother as well," Hermione's head shot up at this. He had lied to her. He had lied to her so she would think at least she had one respectable parent. So she wouldn't be so completely ashamed. The woman had after all given away her own daughter, and Grace knew it. Hermione's heart swelled. The lengths he went to, to help his sister were truly admirable, though she knew he would never think of that, just the mistakes that happened after.

"I need to thank you-" the smaller girl started.

"Don't you dare," Hermione said to the little first year. "I din't do nothin' worth your thankin'," she muttered, hugging the girl, her voice showing her less than posh upbringing. Grace just leant back with her jaw hanging loose a bit.

"You-but-detention-grammar freak-" she stuttered ever so eloquently. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell anyone, or my reputation is down the drain," she said, drying her eyes. Grace smirked.

"I swear I won't tell no one," she attempted, and Hermione laughed a watery laugh.

"Ain't quite there yet sweet heart," Hermione replied, dropping all the t's in the right places. Grace shrugged at Hermione's comment.

"He won't talk to you unless you force him to listen," Grace said after a while, "He's convinced he isn't worth your company and now that you know you'll leave him and so will I."

"That doesn't explain the not talking…"

"He thinks he's lessening the pain for him and us if he is the bad guy when we leave,"

"Which we won't…" Hermione just sat there completely befuddled.

"Boy logic makes no sense at all," Grace explained.

"You're telling me!" Hermione joked. It was funny how she could be reduced to tears and laughing in the same conversation with Grace. The two sat on the bed in comfortable silence for about five minutes, until Grace had a strange glint in her eye.

"What?" Hermione said, wary of the girl's thoughts, and well aware of the fact that first years will always be first years with mischievous ways- and she knew occulemancy. She was royally –

"Do you like Draco?"

"Obviously, he's my friend," maybe she would be alright.

"I'm not stupid-"

"Never said you were-"

"Oh you know what I mean, just answer the question, it's not that hard," Grace said, poking her friend. Unknowingly to Hermione, she had lifted the silencing charm just before she asked the dreaded question and she knew Ginny was in the room.

"Small Malfoy, is there even a need for that question?" the red headed girl said, poking her head between the curtains. Hermione almost had a heart attack and fell backwards.

"Don't do that Ginny!" she gasped. Grace and Ginny fell about in fits of laughter and the Weasley girl sat on the bed too, once again silencing the space around them.

"The name is Grace, and no, you're right, it's obvious enough."

"Nah, I prefer Small Malfoy. If Ferret gets to be Ferret, then you get to be Small Malfoy. He can't be left out, can he?" Hermione and Grace smiled awkwardly, sharing a knowing look.

Hermione realised she hadn't answered the question, instead accepting the fact that she liked him. The way he cared for his close friends and how much he loved his sister, how his intelligence matched her own- almost. With his tall build and stern face, he was undeniably good looking. The depth in his eyes, the bravery shown through the multiple scars all over his body- oh hell she did like him.

She wasn't going to let him push her away.

**I'm not so sure I do humour well...review to let me know what you think :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys, sorry for the slow update- I couldn't access my account to update. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

**Disclaimer- does it look like I own?**

Draco lay on his bed in his room, tracing random patterns onto the ceiling with his wand. The light coming from his wand was a shade of green he had hoped he would never see again. He hadn't spoken to Hermione for three days. She had tried approaching him but he had turned away and shut himself in his room. He hadn't spoken to Grace either. It physically hurt to ignore her.

Loud music was coming from Hermione's room.

He was bought out of his reverie by an incessant knocking. He ignored it. It would be Hermione, trying to talk to him. He wasn't sure he could look at her now she knew everything, knowing she would just see him as a monster. The beast doesn't get the beauty except in the fairy tales. Then again, that beast was hideous on the outside; it's always less ugly. At least that beast still had a soul.

It would be best if he wasn't there. Maybe his subconscious was telling him something with that shade of green.

The knocking wouldn't stop. He knew no amount of verbal abuse would make it go away either. He'd tried. For the past three days, he'd tried. He left his wand on the side table and hefted himself off the bed to face her. Perhaps confrontation was the best way to handle this. He opened the door, making the music a lot louder and clearer.

He stumbled back holding his cheek. It was stinging, and as his arse hit the floor and he looked up at Hermione. He was reminded strongly of third year. That was twice that she had slapped him, and her technique had improved greatly since then. She was flexing her fingers and he got up, backing away from her. He wasn't a masochist, he didn't need another slap. His knees hit the back of the bed and he landed on his backside again. Hermione padded across the room. He prayed he wouldn't be at the receiving end of one of her hexes. He indiscreetly checked for the tell tale signs of a wand- and found none-much to his relief. She was so close he had to look up to look at her face.

"You," her voice was cold and his eyes grew slightly wider in fear, "Draco how could you!" There it was, the pain he'd been avoiding. He went to interrupt but she cast a silencing charm with a swipe of her hand. Damn, he'd forgotten about that. "You just decided you wouldn't talk to me after-after-" she seemed to choke on her words, and it saddened him, in the same way it did when he saw Grace's tears. "No! You can't do that to me! You can't just leave us alone and ditch Grace! It hurts her more when you leave! How can you be so stupid as to think it helps?" He wanted to say he was the reason it hurt, that it wasn't stupid it was flawless logic- but he couldn't say a word. "You are all she has left," her voice was breaking, "you are her closest friend, you know her better than you know the back of your own hand and you are her buffer to reality," he knew she was talking about their mother. "How is it going to be any safer for her if you leave?" He wanted to say that she would have Hermione. "We couldn't do without you,"

Wait, what?

She turned on her heel removed the silencing charm.

"What do you mean 'we', Granger?" He grabbed her arm, leaning over her.

"Talking, now are we?"

"Don't you do that, answer the damn question." She was completely silent.

He gripped harder. "What do you mean 'we', Granger?"

"You remember what I told you about my parents?" He nodded and loosened his grip. That was why. He had helped her. But she had her friends- it wouldn't matter if he wasn't there.

"Why would you try and leave us?" He let go of her and looked up at the ceiling, and then his wand. That green was still there. She looked up too, and took in a sharp breathe when she saw the colour. The song changed.

-the thought of being gone

But I'd probably even do that wrong-

"Don't even think about it."

"What would it matter, Grace has you and you have your friends." He sounded cruel even to his own ears.

"It's not the same!" She said- her voice louder than he expected.

"Well at least she wouldn't have my dark shadow looming over her." He replied, his voice low, void of emotion.

"At least you would be there to cast the shadow!" She tried, she didn't seem to be processing her words.

- Cause though I'm bleeding out inside

Oh I don't even mind-

"What the fuck are you talking about Granger?" He knew the profanities were unnecessary but if she was going to talk she might as well make sense.

"It's a lot worse if your not there, trust me. I've thought it through," she said very quietly. That, he was not expecting. He didn't get any more information though.

"So don't you try and leave again, you hear?"

He ran his hand through his hair, muttering, looking out the window as she walked away. He didn't realise she had heard what he had said.

"The beast doesn't get the beauty."

"Bull shit." He turned to look at her, his lips parted for an argument.

She kissed him. She held his face in her hands, one hand covering the bruise on his jaw that was already forming from her slap. Her kiss was so innocent, filled with so much emotion it hurt. He placed his hands on her hips to bring her closer and she moved her hands down to the nape of his neck. He stopped the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes for an answer to why-

It's all your fault-

Hermione sang quietly along with the song:

"You called me beautiful."

Hello once again! Just wanted to say review and favourite and follow and all that jazz! Can we get past 60?

The song was "it's all your fault" by Pink- an amazing song and again I do not own. Listen to it while reading maybe.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers and follow-er-y-people! Tira Fae


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